At RockARoonie Fantasy Camp
by gomenasai-for-everything
Summary: Magnus' point of view in Dethcamp. Magnus X Toki fic.


I almost didn't believe it when I saw him out in the audience, almost couldn't believe it. Maybe I was wrong, I had only seen him in the stage make up before, but no, that snow globe wasn't sold to the public. This man, this innocent man with wide, pale blue eyes, was the one who had replaced me.

My disbelief mounted when he got onstage to introduce himself, clutching the snow globe tightly and looking damn close to crying. Diabetic, huh? Hadn't he been the one with the shit ton of candy endorsements? Whatever, Dethklok had never been logical, not even when I'd been a member, but this kid... he was too much. He wanted friends, and happiness, and acceptance, childish things that I figured the other members would've beaten out of him a long time ago. The other members of the audience began to tease him mercilessly, like grade schoolers, and I rolled my eyes and wondered why I'd bothered to do this. The kid ran off the stage and I came out to be introduced.

I said I wanted him in my 'band' without really thinking about it, but I was oddly happy about it when he smiled, bright eyed and for once loosening his grip on the snow globe. That evening, in our shared room, he talked endlessly about the rest of Dethklok using stupid fake names. I thought his accent would piss me off, like Skwisgaar's had, but instead I found myself smiling along with him and telling him about my own days in Dethklok. The fake names I used were no better than his and I laughed when he didn't figure it out. He laughed with me.

He went to the bathroom before he fell asleep, and came out without a shirt. When he lay down with his back to me and revealed the latticework of scars that stretched from his shoulders to his ass I reeled backwards. Who the hell had done this to such an innocent person, such a kind-hearted being? Had it been Nathan? He was always a violent man, easy to anger and quick to strike. Or Skwisgaar? He hated sharing the spotlight, and it had to be especially terrible for him to have to share it with this boy, who could likely surpass him one day. Pickles could have done it too, I thought. As peaceful as he was sober he could be an angry drunk and from what I'd heard he'd been drunk more than sober recently. Then I remembered Murderface, remembered how he got off on knives and blood and felt sick to my stomach. It showed, I guess, because the little dumbass asked me if I was okay in his broken English. I told him I was fine and asked who had given him the scars. He rolled over, trying to hide them, and mumbled that he hadn't meant for me to see them. I told him to stop being a pussy and tell me, and he blushed and mumbled and figeted. I punched his arm. He whined and told me it was his parents. After that I went to sleep and felt guilty for the first time in ten years.

At 'band practice' the next day Toki struggled to slow his fingers to the speed of the other dildos in our 'band'. I told him to stop but he pretended to not know what I meant. I stared sharply at him and he winced but continued to make his fingers twist and stumble over simple chords. The others thought the look was to reprimand him for not learning to play better. Once we returned to our room that evening I threw him a guitar and yelled at him until he played his best. It made me realize fully, for the first time, who he was. It made me remember that he was really Toki Wartooth, the second fastest guitarist in the world. Without realizing it I fell asleep to the heavenly metal that flowed from his instrument.

I awoke late in the night and found his bed empty and him gone. I rushed out of our building, more worried than I should've been, more worried than I'd _ever_ been. The big blonde man had been bullying him, I knew, he'd been cruel to him. Toki didn't deserve it.

I ran all through the camp and found no sign of him, but when I reached the edge of the forest I heard his voice. I ran towards it and was rewarded with the man crashing into me. I held him in a loose hug that contained more affection than I'm willing to admit to as we walked back to our cabin. The blonde didn't dare touch him when he stood by me, and I allowed myself a smirk at that.

On the third and final morning we had our last practice. I allowed Toki to have the space by me, and often found myself placing my hand on him, his shoulder, his thigh. He didn't seem to notice, but the other band members stared, some in disgust, some in jealousy. I hated them even more for thinking Toki was a slut.

At about noon he walked up onto the stage and smiled his sweet smile, the snow globe sitting on an amp not too far away from him. He announced the band name, a silly, feminine thing I'd threatened the other band members into agreeing to, and began to play in that frustratingly terrible way I wished he would drop. Throughout the whole song (poorly composed, overly simple, a disgraceful thing for him to play) I waited and hoped for him to break out into his angelically heavy music. This hope distracted me from the blonde that waited in the wings with his friends, made me ignore the smirk that twisted his pudgy face, and look over the chocolate cake he clutched in his hand.

When he first leaped on top of little Toki and started shoving the cake in his mouth I didn't quite know what to do, but when the boy began to make fun of him and make him cry for his insulin I rushed from my place behind the curtain and tossed him away with a strength I didn't know I had. Before I knew it I'd grabbed the needle and stabbed it into his flat stomach and then his eyes were open and he was thanking me and I kissed him. I don't know why, not really, I've never liked men before but this kid was different and I knew it. He merely lay beneath me and blushed, and just when I thought he would lean up and kiss me as well the rest of Dethklok walked in and ruined the moment. It brought back not-quite-fond memories of them cock-blocking me. Nathan was obviously trying not to kill me when he saw how I held the smaller man, and I think he would've if not for Toki asking where his snow globe was.

The blonde man turned the attention back to himself by smashing it, a much more childish way to get his anger across than the attempt at murder he'd performed not minutes before. I remember what Nathan said so clearly that it still brings a small smile to my face: oh shit little kid, you just fucked up real bad. At that moment I was actually grateful for the blonde, since he turned Nathan's anger away from me. In fact, I actually felt a little bad for him when the bull of a man went running after him, somehow managing to be threatening in a robe about three inches too short. They never found the kid's body and I'm still glad I got out of the band without pissing off the manager.

In the ensuing chaos the whole audience seemed shocked that the little man, who they'd thought was a pussy, was actually a member of the most brutal band in the world. It made me smile and hold him close with pride and affection and fondness and a whole lot of other shit I'd forgotten about. Pickles glared at me hatefully, but I only smirked and looked at Toki, who somehow still hadn't figured out my relation to the band. I felt fire against my back and turned my head around to see Skwisgaar, pouting in his over dramatic way and lowered my hand to Toki's hip just to see just how much I could piss him off. He tried to lunge forward but Murderface held him back and I laughed again.

It took about an hour for Nathan to get back and the whole time I kept Toki by my side. Murderface couldn't hold Nathan back. The beast of a human lunged at me and pulled Toki away, but the sweet man just smiled innocently up at the singer and greeted him in that amazingly adorable way. I stole another kiss from him as he was led back to the van they'd arrived in, and I'm still amazed I got out alive from the way the other four members ran at me, but I did and I still laugh from the adrenaline of it sometimes.

In the months since I've become a little like another Doctor Rockso around Mordhaus, adored by Toki and hated by everyone else, but I can't bring myself to care. I'm with my adorable, wonderful, brutal, Toki, and that's all I care about anymore, as surprising as it is to me, and if it takes having the boots put to me medium style after every visit then I'll damn well accept it, because Toki is worth it.


End file.
